A vintage X-Ray machine in the oldest section of the hospital.
The working end of the blast furnace, where molten metal would flow like lava out of the furnace… a process called ‘tapping’.
When boiling beet juice accidentally spills from the gas-fired tanks two feet away, you better be wearing some of these, or bye-bye legs.
Fermenters and mixing tanks fill this brewing room. The lighting is all natural, and is partially owed to a crumbling wall letting the sunset blast the interior in almost perfect profile.
Before developers saw to cut and cut the flour mills inside Pillsbury, they stood at the ready beside various purposeful chutes the traversed the floors of between sorters. These machines were belt-driven by the power of Pillsbury’s Mississippi headraces and turbines, the force of which notoriously shook the building’s foundations themselves. The wheels would change the grade of the flour, or the size of the dust produced from crushing the kernels.
Not ghosts. Slow-moving explorers’ shadows create a ghostly effect in the ‘Old Ward’–the second floor of the Service Building.
Grimy windows and the other half of the complex trade interests and stares.
Part of the grain dust venting system, dislodged from its place above the dumping hatches under the grain cribs.
The water tower no doubt made good scrap after it hit the ground.